Do No Harm
by Vera Kate
Summary: Lauren Fellows takes her oath as a doctor seriously. When presented with an opportunity to help supernaturals, how could she refuse considering what happened to Ben? She tries to navigate where the ethical lines are - supporting Jennifer becoming a mom, dealing with werewolves, helping Chloe, and doing her best to get her out alive. Prequel to Promises Made.


A/N: I don't own anything! There are a few direct lines/scenes from _The Summoning_ and _The Awakening_. This is the second story in my _Promises_ series – an upcoming multi-chapter story (or stories!). There are a few overlapping scenes with my other story, _Like Magic_. If you haven't checked that one out yet, you can read it before or after this one.

Reviews are appreciated!

* * *

Do No Harm

She eyed the stack of folders on her desk. It was the end of the workday for the rest of her colleagues, but not for her. She couldn't rest until she had made her notes, scanned them, filed them, and then looked over her schedule for tomorrow.

It was days like this – _long_ days – that she questioned why she didn't fight harder to maintain her surgeon status with hospital. She could have found a way to make it all balance out. She could have found time to operate with precision and help conduct research. Sure, most of her surgical colleagues spent their time mostly publishing articles about new techniques and involving new technology in innovative ways. It was simply the way things were 'done' in the surgical area.

Research? That was for everyone that was not-a-surgeon. Surgeons didn't need to do research. They simply solved the problem. It was up to everyone else to tell them what the problem was and their job was to do the best to solve it.

She couldn't do it.

She couldn't live with the guilt of not researching. If the research had been done earlier, perhaps it would have been in time to save Ben.

She looked at the calendar. Tomorrow. Tomorrow would be his death anniversary. No wonder she was already in a bad mood. The universe was conspiring, as usual; to make sure that tomorrow would be the worst day of the year for her.

She missed her brother. Sometimes it felt like she missed him more than Jennifer, his twin sister. But, Jennifer had always been able to make friends easily. She had more than enough support when he had passed. Lauren was a senior in high school. She had a few select friends but it was the nerd stigma that prevented her from having any truly close relationships.

Her eyes started to glaze over, signaling that she was going to be lost in thought. But, she couldn't let that happen. She had work to do. People depended on her. People needed her.

She stood up to refill her coffee mug with more lukewarm coffee. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

Lauren didn't sleep well that night. She tossed and turned. She moved the thermostat up and down. She drank a glass of water. She finally caved and grabbed a halved sleeping pill. She didn't like the sensation of drugged sleep, but she knew that she needed rest if she was going to get through tomorrow.

* * *

She was swamped. She had patients that were late, she had patients that came in for one thing and just 'happened' to mention a serious concern right before they headed out the door, she had patients that refused to take their medication. It was a rough, but almost standard day.

Again, she eyed the files on her desk. What was that Greek myth about fighting a monster, killing it, only having to do the exact same thing the next day? Whoever that was, Lauren gave him, or her although unlikely, her sympathies.

She looked over her messages. She had a stack of missed calls – some from patients, some from other doctors wanting her to look at an article they were considering publishing, and a few promising research ideas. She scanned through a few of them. A lot of the research done at the Edison Group was supernaturals helping supernaturals, trying to find ways to make their lives a little easier medically. A supernatural couldn't just stroll into any hospital and receive the proper treatment. Their genetics were different, so they needed to be treated differently. Logically, it made sense. Ben always had so many doctor visits with specialists any time they drew his blood. Lauren remembered him complaining about it. He eventually just stopped going to the doctor. No one could find anything _wrong_ with him and he felt fine, so why waste everyone's time and money they didn't have?

She looked at the message. It was brief but promising. It was from a Dr. Davidoff. She had heard his name around the office. He was supposedly starting a project involving subjects from conception and tracking their progress throughout the years. She didn't know exactly what, but for a study of that depth level, it must involve something big. Her gut told her that she _needed _to be on his team. She looked at the time – too late, even for the most dedicated to be at their desks.

She'd call tomorrow.

* * *

"Jennifer," she started on the phone. "I know you'll call me back as soon as you see the message, but I can't wait. I had my final interview with Dr. Davidoff earlier. I think it went well. You are going to die once I tell you the bits and pieces that I can share. Love you. Now call me so that I can come over."

She put the phone back into the cradle. She was elated by the project. It was things like this that she had come to the Edison Group for. She had given up her surgical scalpel for this. She was going to help make the world a better place.

* * *

"I don't think it is a good idea," Dr. Davidoff began. "It blurs the line too much. There are ethical guidelines we have to adhere too."

"Necromancers are relatively rare. Before my brother, I honestly don't know when someone in the family actually expressed it. Jennifer and he were twins."

"Yes, but clearly they are fraternal twins. They are no more genetically closer than you and Jennifer."

"Obviously, but if the genetic modifications are correct, that does not matter. The worst case scenario, you would have a necromancer with a delayed onset of weaker powers. In an ideal, it would be only be a latent carrier, like you and your sister."

Dr. Davidoff watched her.

"Please, you don't understand. She is desperate for a baby. She and Steve can't adopt."

"Can't or won't?"

"Can't," Lauren sighed. "Steve," she trailed off. "Steve has a history that adoption agencies decline as soon as they start the paperwork process. There is no way that a legitimate organization would approve him. It's not that he's violent," Lauren quickly backtracked, noting Dr. Davidoff's expression, "but he got into some trouble when he was younger. He's always been vague on exactly what, but he's never shown any violent tendencies.

"But," Lauren continued, "there has always been something slightly off about him. I just can't put my finger on it. The whole witches and sorcerers can identify the other as soon as they look into their eyes phenomenon? There is just something there, something about the eyes that say that there is something there."

"Something supernatural?"

Lauren laughed.

"The most supernatural thing about him is how much he enjoys number work. Head of the business but he goes over the books every night. Jennifer says that he always brings the books home. Never fails."

Dr. Davidoff murmured in agreement.

"Well, you do have the blood for it, even if it isn't active. If it turns out that there is something there," he paused, "it could lead to an interesting result. But more than likely, it isn't anything other than you finding a way for your dislike to manifest in some possible way."

"That is possible. It probably is that," she sighed. "I mean, Jennifer has the same blood and she married the guy after me telling her that she could do better." She paused abruptly, realizing that she was telling too much. "But – it couldn't hurt, right? To do the blood test? To see if there was anything there?"

"We can at least go that far without crossing any lines. It'll be your job to explain what you can. The more normal we can make this for Steve, the better. As for Jennifer," he paused. "You mentioned that of the two, you had the closer relationship with your brother?"

"Yes, we were quite close. Not to say that we weren't close with Jennifer but she was more sociable of the group of us. Well, to an extent. Ben always had a close group of friends but they drifted away once they all started college, it's not unlike any other group of friends. Different places, different people, bonds weaken."

"Mmm," Dr. Davidoff made a few quick notes on his notepad. "Did Ben tell Jennifer about his abilities?"

"I'm not sure exactly if Ben really understood what was happening to him. He told me a few things, but it seemed like every time I saw him, he was slipping away. He wasn't acting like himself. The last time I saw him," she took in a deep breath, "he was talking about he was seeing demons."

"Demons," he said flatly.

"That is what he said."

Dr. Davidoff made a few more notes.

"I'll tell you how we can proceed with this. We have to be very delicate in handling this. The supernatural community needs to be preserved, that is the utmost importance. What I would like you to do is this," he explained.

* * *

Lauren knocked on front door. She was surprised at how quickly Steve had changed his nomadic lifestyle for her sister. It drove Lauren up the wall at first. By the time she was used to driving to a certain building, it was time for them to move again. How many times had Lauren done that? Five? Six? Probably more.

Jennifer opened the door and gestured her to come in. "I don't know why you bother knocking. I gave you a key so that you wouldn't have to."

"Well, it's different. This isn't just _your_ apartment that I was crashing. Someone else lives here too – but, I need to talk to you. It could be pretty big."

"Big," Jennifer repeated. "Well, let's get situated. What are you in the mood for today?"

"You pick. I –" Lauren's eyes darted around, "I just really need to talk to you."

Jennifer closed the door and they walked over to the living room couch. They situated themselves on it, facing each other.

"This might seem odd, but just trust me," Lauren started. Jennifer gave her a quizzical look but nodded in agreement. "If something seems weird or odd, just tell me. I need to know what Ben told you about his," Lauren paused, searching for the right word, "newfound abilities."

Jennifer's eyebrows raised and she sighed. "_That_, well, okay. Um," she paused. "Well, he told me that he started seeing things. He told me that he saw ghosts, and that they followed and talked to him. He told me that some seemed nice, others were not so much. The last time I talked to him, he was muttering a lot, like there was someone else there. He kept talking about some demon and a debt that needed to be collected."

Lauren nodded. "And, what did you make of all of it?"

"Well, I don't know. I still don't know. I know they classified it as some sort of mental break but – it just seemed too gradual for that to make sense, you know?"

"But do you believe that he saw those things? Not that he believed he saw those things?"

Jennifer looked away, scanning the wall. She looked over to the built in shelves and her eye stopped on a picture frame. She stood up and retrieved it. She stared into the glass for a few moments before Lauren leaned over to see what picture she was fascinated with.

"I keep looking back to this picture. There are times where I feel as though he's still here, somehow? I know everyone says that – that their loved ones are constantly with him, but this feels more active somehow. Not that he's simply watching, but he's waiting for us to notice him. Or something. That sounds crazy, right?"

Lauren took the picture from Jennifer. It was the last picture they had taken together. Jennifer and Ben had come in from college for homecoming weekend. They went to the fair and had one of their friends take their picture while they posed on hay bales.

"What if I told you that it wasn't crazy?"

Jennifer looked up at Lauren.

"What if I told you that Ben didn't suffer a mental break? What if I told you that he was special? What if I told you that what he saw was real?"

Jennifer's eyes started watering, tears quickly rolled down her cheeks.

"Do you want to hear more," Lauren asked cautiously.

Jennifer slowly nodded.

"We – you, Ben, and I – we have something special in our blood. We're latent carriers, but Ben's gift was active. He is what you would call a necromancer. He was able to communicate and interact with the formerly living and possibly demons. Only a handful of necromancers would be able to summon a demon, so it probably wasn't anything that Ben did. What probably happened is that however many generations ago that there was an active necromancer, they must have made some deal with the demon that was after Ben. What happened to him wasn't his fault.

"The reason I'm asking you about this is because you're a carrier, like me. Now," she paused, "I'm going to need you to let me finish before you say anything." Jennifer nodded, struck speechless, still crying, and Lauren continued. "I'm on a new research project. There is a possibility that you and Steve could be really strong candidates. Really strong. We could find a way to get you pregnant and find a way to make sure the baby is only a carrier."

"Oh my god," Jennifer breathed. "I," she stopped, she bit her fist. They sat in stunned silence for a few minutes.

"What do I tell Steve?"

"Nothing yet. First we need to make sure that you two can proceed forward. I'd be surprised if you didn't."

"I, shit. Just drop some bombs on me, right?" Jennifer grinned. "It's the Edison Group, right?"

Lauren nodded.

"That's . . . interesting. I remember that name – I had stumbled across it shortly after Ben died. I had been asking around, seeing if I could find someone to help Ben. I think someone gave me their name only . . . it was too late."

"Too late?"

"It was after I went back to campus. So a month or so after . . . after it happened."

Lauren eyed Jennifer carefully. She had never thought Jennifer took Ben's claims seriously. Would things have turned out differently if they were closer back then? Probably not – the most access she had was the local library, not the most varied selection on supernatural information. But if she had visited them at campus a weekend or two, maybe she would have thought of questions that might have pointed them in a helpful direction.

"Oh, I guess I didn't realize that you believed him."

Jennifer gave Lauren a wary look.

"Of course I did."

Lauren sat there, stunned. This was certainly unexpected.

"But that is enough about the past. Let's focus on the future."

* * *

Lauren sat down with Jennifer in Dr. Davidoff's office.

"Before we start", Jennifer started, beaming, "I just want to thank you Dr. Davidoff for allowing us to even get this far."

"Please, call me Marcel."

Jennifer grinned and grasped Lauren's hand. She gave it a big squeeze.

"Now I've asked Lauren to give you some unofficial updates – are there any questions about that?" His eyes drifted over to Lauren, searching for an answer to an unasked question.

"I don't think so," she gushed.

"Excellent. Now – we've started simulations using your blood samples. We have run into a bit of an unexpected, but not surprising, result. You see – well, every simulation we've run has produced an active carrier, not a latent carrier like we were hoping."

Jennifer's grinned slipped away, her hand started to sweat.

He continued, "But that doesn't mean that we are done. We could go outside – we use either a donated egg or sperm."

"I – if we're doing this, I want this baby to be _us_."

Lauren turned to Jennifer. "_All _of the simulations showed that it would be some sort of necromancer. Do you really want to do that to your child?"

A dark look crossed Jennifer's face. "We – both Steve and I – signed up to have a baby, from _us_," she turned back to Marcel.

"I'm afraid that isn't possible at this time. Maybe in a few years, we might be able to manipulate the genes more – perhaps even weakening the expression. But, that may or may not happen."

Jennifer sat there.

"Maybe you should think about the donation," Lauren quietly suggested.

Jennifer glared at her and stormed out of the office.

* * *

Lauren looked over the Jennifer's blood test results. It was just as they predicted. They couldn't be more predictable.

A knock at the door demanded her attention. "It's open," she called, closing the file.

Dr. Davidoff came in and sat down.

"We need to discuss a few things. We've had a breakthrough with some of the gene manipulation."

Lauren tensed. Her heart sped up – ever since their meeting, almost a year ago, she had barely talked to Jennifer. There was the obligatory birthday call, the Christmas card, but there wasn't much outreaching besides that. Lauren tried to give her space, but she frequently questioned if she was only making things worse.

"We need to talk about exactly what you are going to tell Steve."

* * *

Lauren stopped by the house. She looked at the driveway again – Jennifer's car sat there, unmoved, just like it was during the fifteen minutes she had stared at it in her own car.

She knocked on the door.

She waited there for ten minutes. Jennifer never came to the door.

Lauren went back to her car. She wanted to tell Jennifer the news in person, but it appeared Jennifer wasn't going to let that happen.

She called Jennifer when she walked into her apartment. It rang the expected five times – then the recorder for the machine kicked on.

"Jennifer, its Lauren. Listen, please. Dr. Davidoff called me into a meeting today – they have made progress in certain areas. If you want, you're in. Please call me back."

She hung up the phone and waited.

It rang in less than a minute.

"You're not joking."

"No."

A pause.

"Thank you," Jennifer said softly, the words almost consumed by sobs.

* * *

Lauren and Jennifer were talking in the kitchen. Steve should be coming home soon, any minute. The old Jennifer was back – she was bubbly, laughing.

"We're a shoe-in?"

Lauren grinned and nodded. "How do you think he's going to react?"

"Happy, I hope!"

"Do you think he'll be here soon?"

"He usually gets in around this time. And … that problem, it won't be an issue?" Jennifer looked slightly anxious at the mention of the elephant in the room.

"I wouldn't have brought this to you if I thought it would be," Lauren replied.

Steve rounded the corner of the kitchen. Jennifer leapt out of her chair and hugged him.

"Lauren brought me the greatest news, Steve! You remember that new job she picked up with that research group? They're starting the final trial on fertility drugs and we can join it!" Jennifer squealed, bouncing on the tips of her toes.

"We've had very promising run in all of the simulations," Lauren added.

"And all of this is safe?"

"Yes! Lauren can go into the science mumbo jumbo part of it but it's practically guaranteed to work," Jennifer grinned.

Steve sat down and held Jennifer's hand.

"My company has been doing research into fertility drugs, as you probably guessed. We're looking to help a few couples to help conceive. This is all perfectly safe; it's just that the FDA has ridiculous waiting times for them to give their official stamp of approval. We've done every test possible – it is safe as it'll ever be."

Steve looked over to Jennifer, her face beaming.

"So what is the first step," he asked.

* * *

Lauren looked at her messages. She had a few that she could handle tomorrow morning but there was one that she needed to address immediately.

She dialed the number and prayed that there would be an answer.

"Dr. Davidoff speaking," the receiver crackled.

"Hello, this is Lauren. I was returning your call earlier."

"Oh yes, of course. I wanted to call you and let you know personally about some unexpected results we had with regards to your sister's husband."

"Unexpected?"

"Well, to be frank, it wasn't entirely unexpected. You recall mentioning that you couldn't place a finger on why you dislike Steve? We might have found an answer in the blood."

The pit of her stomach dropped, her face paled. She felt her hands grow clammy. If he was a demon, of course, this could not be any worse.

"It is a type that we normally don't run into these days. They're almost always completely unaware that they are supernatural of any sort. Have you heard about magicians?"

Lauren's mind was moving as fast as molasses.

"Probably not in the context you're referring to."

Dr. Davidoff laughed. "No, I imagine not. You would be surprised at how many performance magicians are actual magicians. It all comes back to the blood. They're a lesser form of sorcerers. They don't have any 'magical' abilities – they can't cast spells or anything of that sort. No, they're talented in other ways. They're quite adept at the sleight of hand performances, but they're also quite talented at manipulation, they frequently function as con artists."

"Huh." It wasn't elegant but Lauren's brain had just been thrown for a loop.

"It was probably just you being wary that caused your dislike of him," Davidoff continued. "There isn't any sort of feud with magicians and necromancers. Sometimes, however, they can make people feel uneasy."

"But he is a latent carrier, right?"

A pause.

"No."

Lauren leaned on her desk, clutching to the phone.

"Will that prevent them from moving forward?"

"No, I shouldn't imagine so. We are manipulating the necromancer gene. The magician one won't pose any problem controlling when we start running scenarios. It is a fairly easy one to control; we'll make sure that she'll have a female since only males can be magicians. I – sorry Lauren, but I do need to get going. If you have any questions, we can talk tomorrow."

Lauren nodded her head before realizing that she needed to vocalize it instead. "Of course. Thank you for calling me with the results."

She put the phone back in the cradle. She leaned back in her chair, dumbstruck.

Steve was a magician – a fancy supernatural term for a con man. Her mind slowly started speeding up. Did this mean that his business was a scheme? Was he running some sort of Ponzi scheme? Would Jennifer and the baby be in any sort of danger? Did he deal with less than reputable crowds on the side?

Lauren sighed. "I am not going to think about this. I am going home and just not thinking," she told herself. She gathered up her belongings and left the office early.

She didn't have much luck relaxing at home. Her thoughts were ablaze. Should she tell Jennifer? Keep it to herself? It didn't seem right to keep a secret like that from her. On the other hand, Steve didn't even know what he was. Would it be right to introduce him into the supernatural world? If she did, would it only make things worse for them? What if it opened up more opportunities for Steve to do whatever magicians do?

Wait, she paused. Did this mean that Steve's business was some sort of sham? He liked to go over the books and had a meteoric rise from starting out to being incredibly successful. Some of that could be chalked up to simply being at the right place, the right time, and having the right idea.

"I have to stop," she said to herself. She went into the kitchen and uncorked a bottle of wine.

* * *

Lauren stepped out of her meeting with Dr. Davidoff. He had insisted on a follow up meeting to yesterday's phone call. Her head was splitting – one glass quickly turned into half the bottle. She had never been much of a drinker but yesterday's revelations had her head spinning.

She went to her office and sat down. She closed her eyes and replayed the meeting. It was similar to yesterday – assurances that Jennifer and Steve could still move over, there would just have to be additional monitoring and simulations, Jennifer may need to make a few additional reports about the child. There were other possible scenarios they could try. If the magician proved to be more difficult than expected, they could reverse course – but even then, a girl could be a necromancer but not a magician. A boy? A boy could be either . . . or both, Lauren's stomach dropped.

Ethical lines – Lauren tried to adhere to them as tightly as possible. She was trying to make lives better – but now she was at a loss of what to do.

"A girl," she mouthed. Jennifer would be thrilled – she would have been thrilled with either or both – but despite her reservations about the news, she grinned. A girl, that is, if everything worked out with the simulations.

* * *

Lauren had distanced herself from Jennifer's pregnancy plans – she threw herself into the practice. She quietly turned down offers to review the files of other "subjects". She told herself it was because she was trying to maintain some sort of professionalism, but Steve's newfound lineage bothered her the more she thought about it.

She felt guilty – of course she couldn't fault Jennifer for wanting a baby with her husband.

Her phone rang, snapping her out of her thoughts.

A scream pierced the phone and she held it away from her ear.

"I'm pregnant! I just got the call from the lab – my numbers are up!"

"I'm so happy for you," Lauren said, meaning every word she said.

"I have to come in later this morning for more blood work, but after that do you want to grab some lunch?"

"Sure."

"Okay, I'll see you then. Oh man – how am I going to tell Steve? Should I call him?"

"I, I don't know. What does your gut say?"

"No, no, this isn't something I want to tell him over the phone. Dinner – I'll tell him over dinner. Okay, I'll let you go and I'll go to your office once I'm done."

"Sounds good," Lauren said, hanging up the phone. She was conflicted – a baby was what Jennifer wanted the most in the world. But, this wouldn't be a normal baby – a baby that would someday see ghosts or worse.

Ethical lines seemed more abstract as the days went on.

* * *

Chloe was a light in all of their lives. Lauren found the role of aunt suited her well. The little girl gave her a renewed sense of purpose in her work. It wasn't all abstract. She would see real world, immediate results with Chloe. Chloe wouldn't have to be scared – she would have every possible resource available to her, should the day come.

* * *

She looked at her notes, it was never-ending. Just when she thought she was done with one pile, she spied another one lurking behind it.

The phone ringing provided a much needed break.

"Hello, this is Dr. Fellows speaking."

"Lauren – this is urgent. Do you have a few minutes?"

"I can spare a few minutes, Jennifer. Is there anything wrong?"

"Yes, I mean, maybe. Yes, I think so. It's about Chloe ."

Lauren tensed, her gut knew what Jennifer was about to say next.

"She says that she's seeing people. Right now, it mostly seems harmless. She treats them like the rest of her imaginary – oh, what if they're _all_ ghosts?"

"Have you tried to look into the history of the house? Previous tenants, owners, anything like that? People have lived in this area for a long time, so there is a decent chance that somewhere along the way, somebody passed near or in the house."

"That's a good idea. I'll do that once I get off the phone."

"Is there anything else," Lauren started, eyeing a second pile she just found. Organization was something that she liked to do – when she had the time for it.

"I thought you said they were going to make sure that it would be on her terms and not until she was older," Jennifer said.

Lauren shifted uncomfortably. There was no way that Jennifer had forgotten about that conversation.

"Well, that was the goal. But kids do have imaginary friends too."

"There is no way she is making this up. She", Jennifer paused a few moments. "Listen, you need to find something, she's scared." Her tone had switched – it was hard as steel. She would not be ignored.

Lauren started to answer when she thought she heard another noise on the phone. "Shit, is that Steve?"

No answer. Lauren strained her ears, she thought she heard Steve's voice in the background.

"Right, Lauren? I've got to go, but you'll get it for me?"

"I'll see if there is anything."

"Thank you, I'll talk to you later."

Lauren hung up the phone. That had been too close. If Steve knew what they were talking about, he would be shipping them both off to a mental hospital. He might even need one if the truth ever came out about his family.

* * *

Lauren did what she did best – research. She found a few promising leads, but they all ended up being superstitious nonsense. None of the necromancers she knew had any helpful suggestions. A few suggested that Jennifer put vervain around the house to banish ghosts, but that wouldn't help Chloe when she went to school.

She looked at their family tree, there were a few distant relative she could try reaching out to, but it didn't seem very appealing. Calling up a distant relative and asking if they saw ghosts? That was a recipe for a disaster or accusations of being on candid camera.

She didn't want this circulating around the office. It would be easier if she could be open about it, but if news spread, what would they do? Would they make Chloe live in the lab like those _monsters_?

She had a chill just thinking about it – and what they did to that poor nurse . . .

No, she and Jennifer would have to find their own way of handling this. She looked over the tree again. She would have to ask some of the necromancers to put out some feelers for the older generations – to see if they recognized any names.

Or – she paused. She had a thought that seemed obvious. She and Jennifer would look into the tree; they would ask and see if any special heirlooms were floating around. It seemed like a long shot, but since there was a familial history, there should be a familial solution.

* * *

Lauren was past numb. She functioned. She ate. She slept. She showered. She called into work to take vacation time. It seemed wrong – who uses vacation days to try to put a little girl's life back together. It would never be fixed.

The first time she saw Chloe after the accident, she had her back turned to the little girl. From the back, Jennifer and Lauren looked quite similar.

"Momma," Chloe cried, running and grasping at her legs. Lauren thought her heart couldn't break into any more pieces – she was wrong.

"I'm so sorry," she replied, removing her little hands and bending down to her level. She looked into Chloe's tear streaked face. She looked so much like Jennifer – all except the eyes. She definitely had Steve's eyes.

"You, you," Chloe struggled to get out.

Lauren wrapped the little girl in a hug. She would never be able to fill the void that Jennifer left, but she would do her best.

* * *

Lauren didn't answer her phone when it rang. She let the machine pick it up. Lately all the calls she received were bad news. She couldn't handle any more of that.

The machine beeped and she heard Steve's voice. She cleared her throat as she listened to the message.

"I wanted to call you. I, we have to finish settling . . . tomorrow morning, ten o'clock. If you can't, let me know or just send an attorney to represent you."

Settling – that would imply that things were calm, that things had gone back into place, perfectly aligned.

She replayed the message. Attorneys would be involved? To the best of her knowledge, there shouldn't be anything to settle. Steve was the next of kin, he was her husband. A spouse dies, the other spouse 'gets' the estate. Unless there was a will or a trust set into place . . . unless there was something else.

She called the lab.

"Hello? This is Lauren. I need someone to look into a death."

She picked up the phone the next time it rang and met her at the café not too far from her apartment. She bought a coffee and sat down. They didn't talk and it was only at the end that Lauren received a manila folder.

"If you have any questions, I left my business card in there. Anytime."

Lauren nodded and left. If she was asked what the person she just had coffee with looked like, she wouldn't have been able to answer. She couldn't see past her own grief. Right now the only thing in focus was the manila folder. A folder – it meant that they had found something.

* * *

She watched him. She was sitting across from him at the table. The lawyer was at the head, droning on about the proper procedures they had to take to ensure that the will was executed properly. She distantly registered that the lawyer had stopped talking.

She was too busy watching Steve. He played the part of the grieving widower and father well. She only briefly acknowledged that the lawyer was addressing her, something about some of Jennifer's belongings. She would receive a copy of it, she could simply go over it then. There were more important matters to settle.

Once the lawyer was finished, she exited with the rest of them. She waited, seeing that he was hanging back. She needed to have a private conversation with him in a place where he couldn't step away.

She stepped into the elevator with him.

"I know you were behind it."

Steve looked at Lauren.

"You can play dumb with everyone, the mourning husband, the clueless absentee father, all you like," Lauren continued, venom soaking each word, staring at the doors. "I know _what_ you are Steve. I should have said something a long time ago but for Jennifer's sake, I held my tongue. But she is gone and I know you are behind it somehow. I know everything that you've done, illegal and otherwise. And you can think now that Jennifer's gone, you can block me out but you can't. Chloe needs me, more than you could ever know. No nanny can replace me or what I know."

"You can't possibly think I would try to make her forget her own mother."

"I can't say what you would or wouldn't do, Steve. It is in your nature to do whatever gets you ahead."

The doors dinged again.

"I will have a close relationship with Chloe. If you try to stop that, you'll regret it."

Lauren left the elevator and Steve lost in his thoughts.

* * *

Lauren did her best to fill the void that Jennifer left. She and Chloe had special outings, special trips, and their own in-jokes. She never missed a school performance, open house, soccer practice or game.

She knew it was a futile effort and it was only hampered by Steve's refusal to let Chloe come live with her. She even offered to move _in_ – but he refused that as well.

Chloe needed family, not nannies, not housekeepers.

It kept her up at night. She wondered why Jennifer didn't make any mention of that to Steve in her will. She loved Chloe, at times, it seemed like Chloe could have been the daughter she would have had. They looked similar enough and occasionally strangers would make mention of it. The first few years, Chloe had become angry, yelling that she was her aunt. As she grew older, she would simply tell them that they were niece and aunt.

* * *

"Did I ever live in a house with a basement?"

"And good morning to you, too," Lauren said, trying to open a drawer that insisted on sticking.

"Sorry. I had this dream and it's bugging me."

"Ah, that would have been the old house in Allentown. You were just a tyke. I'm not surprised you don't remember."

"Thanks. It was –"

"Bugging you, I can tell. Must have been a doozy of a nightmare." Lauren jostled the drawer again, this time victorious.

"Something about a monster living in the basement. Very cliché. I'm ashamed of myself."

"Monster? What –"

The PA system blasted, "Dr. Fellows, please report to station 3B."

"That would be your cue."

"It can wait. Is everything okay, Chloe? You sound off."

"No, just . . . my imagination's in overdrive today. I freaked Milos out this morning, thinking I saw a boy run in front of the cab."

"What?"

"There wasn't a boy. Not outside my head, anyway. The bell is going to ring so –"

"I'm picking you up after school. High tea at the Crowne. We'll talk."

Lauren hung up the phone. She took in a deep breath. She needed to remain calm. Chloe was at the age that most girls are going through puberty; this was just a natural extension of the experiment. Or, she might have seen a boy run in front of the cab. People these days seemed to pay more attention to their phones than their kids.

She'd talk to Chloe this afternoon. It would be nothing – just Aunt Lauren overreacting to another normal milestone, as Chloe would say.

* * *

She looked at Chloe. She seemed so small in the hospital bed. She looked even younger asleep. She was sitting in a chair next to the bed, holding her small hand in her own.

The sedative would wear off soon. Chloe would wake up and . . . what would happen next? She was lost in her thoughts when Chloe stirred.

Lauren got up and closed the door for privacy. She handed Chloe the water.

"Drink this, it'll help."

Lauren sat there. Dr. Davidoff had instructed her on what she could and couldn't say – or mostly what she couldn't say. He wanted to continue with the experiment, to let them live in ignorance. Ignorance was bliss, he said. Lauren had her doubts – if things had proceeded gradually, maybe. But this was sudden – there wasn't any easing into it.

Just like there wasn't going to be any way to ease into the news.

"Chloe, you're going to a group home."

Chloe looked at her, her blue eyes confused. "A group home."

"Oh God, Chloe." She took a breath and grabbed a tissue. "Do you know how many times I've had to tell a patient he's dying? And somehow, this seems harder."

It was harder – if Chloe was seeing ghosts, she was at the same risk of sharing Ben's fate. It seemed unimaginable to Lauren.

Lauren continued, "I know how badly you want to go to UCLA for college. This is the only way we're going to get you there, hon."

"Is it Dad?"

Lauren paused, he would be the easy scapegoat. But, it would be easier if she stuck with the script.

"No, it's the school. Unless you spend two weeks undergoing evaluation in a group home, it will go on your permanent record."

"What will go on my record?"

"It's that da – it's the zero-tolerance policy," Lauren spat out.

"Zero tolerance? You mean violence? B-b-but I didn't –"

"I know you didn't. But to them, it's simple. You struggled with a teacher. You need help."

Chloe rolled over to her side. Lauren had been a doctor long enough to know that was code for "I need to be alone for a while".

She left.

* * *

Lauren sat in the car with Chloe and Steve. Steve was driving them to the Lyle House. This wasn't anything to be alarmed at. Chloe would spend her two weeks there and once they saw that she was progressing as they projected, she would come back to them.

* * *

Lauren sat in the driver's seat, silently fuming.

One of the _monsters_ was at the house, with Chloe. Well – it was _the_ monster since the rest had been taken care of years ago. And now, things were slowly setting into place for a repeat performance.

Grabbing at her? Wasn't that how it started when they were young? _Pawing_ at the nurse? Then when she didn't give them what she wanted – a vicious attack.

She was going to have to remind the staff of what _monsters_ were capable of.

* * *

"I don't believe this," Lauren hissed. "I thought I made it perfectly clear that she wasn't supposed to interact with him? He's a violent monster – he shouldn't even be here," she added.

Dr. Gill started but Lauren cut her off.

"I am bringing this to Dr. Davidoff's attention the second I leave here. He is expressing too much interest in her. You know what they express interest in? _Prey_. Chloe is not some _thing_ for you all to gauge how he interacts with young women.

Lauren didn't hear what the nurses or Dr. Gill had to say. Her mind was a frenzy of panic. Things were escalating – first grabbing at her and now dragging her into the crawl space? And somehow convincing her to explain the situation?

It was unacceptable.

* * *

Lauren heard the doorbell.

She paused, was she expecting a delivery? Or was it simply a delivery man turned around and meant the other side of the building? It certainly wouldn't be the first time.

She grabbed a bathrobe and stepped out of the shower. She'd make it quick so she could finish rinsing the conditioner out of her hair.

She opened the door.

"Chloe? Oh my God. Where – what are you doing here? Are you okay? Is everything alright?"

Lauren led Chloe by the arm, only then taking note that she wasn't alone.

"Aunt Lauren, this is Rae. From Lyle House. We need to talk to you.

* * *

Lauren wanted to take Monday off. If she slept all day, she could pretend that it was Sunday and that Sunday never happened. She didn't have Chloe and Rae turn up on her doorstep. She wouldn't have had to turn Chloe over to Dr. Davidoff. Chloe never would have lashed out at her and hit her.

She didn't sleep that night. She hadn't slept well in over a week – not since Chloe was admitted to Lyle House.

Dr. Davidoff had reassured her that necromancers weren't dangerous like half-demons. She wouldn't be eliminated. They would simply have to find a new rehabilitation method for her.

She should be involved in it. She _wanted_ to be involved in it.

She forced herself out of bed. If she was going to help Chloe, it wasn't going to be accomplished lying in bed.

* * *

Lauren was in the archives – where paperwork and personnel too valuable to let go but too useless to continue working went to die.

She looked at the Genesis 2 box and sighed.

She opened the top and started reading.

* * *

At hour six, she took a break. She had read all of the reports, the projected outcomes, the aspirations of the project, but that was only the tip of the iceberg. She hadn't even touched the personnel files.

She went to the cafeteria and overheard someone talking about zombies. She rolled her eyes as she waiting in line for salad.

"You really believe her?"

"Sure, Gill is a bit of a fanatic, but I think that is why I believe her. Why would she make up that story of the girl raising the bodies of the very first experiments at the house? I don't think anyone knew that there _were_ any bodies there."

Lauren froze, her attention was fully caught by the researchers who were talking about it so casually – as if it was just water cooler talk.

Someone behind nudged her and Lauren snapped out of it. She grabbed her salad, ate quickly, and went back to the archives.

She found Chloe's file and started reading. It contained the expected – the blood results from Jennifer and Steve, family history, history of where Steve and Chloe lived – their history. She scanned it – it wasn't out of the ordinary.

Her eye caught on something – she flipped back to the section on Steve. It detailed that his blood results showed that he was an active carrier for the magician race. It also contained a section that she had never seen.

She read it once. She read it twice. She read it a third time.

She sat there, in stunned silence.

Steve was a magician alright. Davidoff, intrigued by it, had traced Steve's family tree, to find out more information – what side, how often it appeared, how it manifested. It had manifested in almost every generation through the male line except Steve's father. They were mostly businessmen with shady dealings underneath the table. They were respectable people, active in their communities.

She looked at the family tree and noted that it was quite in-depth. She went back to the file, hoping for an explanation as to why he went into so much detail.

She read on and she stopped on one word.

Nasts.

Steve was from a family that was distant cousins to the Nasts – the largest Cabal. The blond hair, the blue eyes – they certainly shared that in common, she noted as she found pictures of Steve's family further back in the file.

She read on.

The mixing of the blood types – necromancer and magician had never been recorded. Davidoff had seen it as an opportunity to have an experiment within the experiment. He had theorized that it would produce a stronger necromancer – since he had previously assured Lauren that they would do their best to minimize the magician gene – much like witch-sorcerer hybrids were stronger.

If Chloe had received an extra 'boost' from that, and then if her part in the experiment wasn't as expected, then . . . Lauren's thoughts drifted off. An already enhanced necromancer receiving genetic manipulation that failed to do what it was meant to, backfiring like the others – making her even _stronger_.

Lauren quickly started putting the box back together. She put the files back in the best she could remember.

She had to get Chloe out of here before it was too late.

* * *

Lauren folded the note and put it in the envelope.

She had second guessed herself so many times writing it – what to leave in, what to leave out. There was the possibility that it could be taken from her, that something could happen to her and Chloe wouldn't know the entire truth.

She shook her head.

She reassured herself that she had put just the right amount in there. It was just enough to get her started on the road to discovery if . . . if she wasn't around to explain it.

* * *

"I'm not the only one who mistakenly thought she was doing the right thing, Chloe." Lauren said, trying her best to keep calm.

She grabbed Chloe's arm.

"An explanation and some money," she said. Chloe didn't make any motion to take it. Lauren put it in Chloe's back pocket. "If you decide to keep running, I won't blame you. But, please, give me a chance. One last chance."

Chloe nodded.

Lauren pulled her into a hug and kissed her cheek. She let Chloe go. She prayed that it wouldn't be the last time.

She tried to keep her composure, she tried to keep her eyes from welling up with tears. Chloe turned back and Lauren gestured for her to go, giving her a small smile.

"Watch out!" Chloe yelled.

Pain. Burning. Choking. The taste of metallic.

Blood flew from Lauren's lips as she fell into darkness.


End file.
